The Christmas Tag

HotShot Headlines tagged me in the Christmas tag 

It’s Christmas Tag everyone!  This is my first time doing this so please excuse me if I don’t know what I’m doing, but here we go.  I want to thank Simon from Planet Simon for tagging me, THANKS SIMON! Also I’ve included the original link to Laura Beth’s blog above as well as the Bright Bookcase who began this Blosgmas Tag.

The Rules

You must thank the person who nominated you.

Link back to the original post (the one on this blog) and use the graphic provided.

Answer the questions given.

Nominate at least 3 people. (or more if your feeling like a nice person  )

Give the nominees 10 questions to answer (or use the ones previously given)


How do you celebrate Christmas? With Alcohol 

Do you have a favorite Christmas carol or hymn? Grandma got Run Over By A Reindeer

Do you like snow? Yes, but I haven’t seen snow in about ten years since I live in far West Texas

What is your favorite contemporary Christmas song? I don’t really have one

What does your Christmas dinner table look like? It has alcohol, lots and lots of alcohol, preferably Peppermint/mocha or chocolate alcohol

What is your favorite Christmas memory? Getting my Huffy Sweet Thunder dirt bike, the only draw back was that it was yellow

If you could take a paid two-week break for Christmas this year, what would you do, and why? I’d go to Delft in the Netherlands, it looks like a great place to be in during the holidays.

Do you have a favorite Christmas book / piece of literature? Little Women

Is there a Christmas movie that you don’t like? All of them, except Scrooged with Bill Murray that one’s my favorite, oh and White Christmas that’s a classic.

Do you have a favorite Christmas special? Nope, unless it has alcohol I don’t bother

My Nominees are….

Bryce Warden

Tom Being Tom




Part 13………Jealousy is the Emotional Vampire’s Weakness.

“She has been through hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into the fire and smiles” – Unknown

Soon after Lestat began his financial “training” with me, which were nothing but long winded lectures about how I mismanaged my money and how bad my credit score was, I mean literally he’d lecture me about that shit.  I began to think to myself that I need to get my shit together financially so that when we get married, I’ll be financially stable and my credit score would be good enough that it wouldn’t hurt him adversely.  Now, I realize that someone’s financial credit score is important and it may cause some discomfort for some, but it was NOT the center of the universe in our relationship.  Or at least I thought it wasn’t, then after yet another argument about how he thought I mismanaged my money he made a comment that sent me into a fireball rage.  He said to me “How can you actually expect me to marry someone whose credit score is this bad?  I mean that is the kiss of death for someone like me!”  I thought someone like him?  Who the fuck did this asshole think he was Alan Greenspan?  Being Miyagied was maybe more cruel in my eyes because when he would still talk about getting married he would reference how he was so good at taking care of his credit score and how his wife didn’t and it affected him negatively in his business life.  That’s when I told him maybe he should teach her that lesson and not me.

But after our fight about my credit score I yelled at him “Then why don’t you go and fuck your credit score instead because I’m outta here mofo.”  I stormed out of his office that day hell bent on proving him wrong.  And yes, my credit score was shit because of my carelessness and my ex-husband (he and his new girlfriend/wife did everything in their power to fuck up my life while we were getting a divorce, but that’s an entire different story altogether) I own how and why my credit was shit and will for the rest of my life.  It took me a long time to get financially healthy and responsible and I will NEVER go through that again.  Even though the method I chose to get my finances together may have been the kiss of death for some people, it helped me more than anyone will ever know.  I was forced to file for Chapter 13 bankruptcy, not one of the proudest moments in my life but I learned a very hard, cold lesson because of it.  This happened during the time I was with that half-wit Waldo and when I reconciled with Lestat he was not pleased that I filed for bankruptcy which sparked another argument.  But I fought that battle by telling him that I did what I had to do, and no one had gotten me into this mess but myself and I would get myself out.  And I also mentioned that if he mentioned my finances and their negative state again, I would slap the taste out of his mouth.

I felt determined to prove myself worthy of his impending (albeit delusional) marriage proposal.  But his lessons came at a price, for him I mean, for me it was an epiphany.  The aversion that was beginning to build would one day come to a head.  But being Miyagied was probably the best thing that could have happened to me to be honest. I mean the best thing for me, the worst thing for Lestat because I needed him less and less as time went by, not that he helped me financially.  Maybe he unwittingly did this because he didn’t want me to be dependent on anyone to do everything for me (not that I would) like that useless wife of his.  Maybe he did this so that I would be prepared for when I would eventually leave, not that he thought I was going to.

Now I know he believed I would stay his mistress forever and he would have been happy with that because he’s a selfish self-centered vampire and add to that narcissistically confident as well.   In the movies when a couple decides to break it off, it’s always because one of the parties does so.  It’s not necessarily mutual, like in the Notebook (yes another movie reference) it was always Allie that walked away from Noah for whatever reason.  This movie too perpetuated that “love lasts forever” myth, and I’m not saying it doesn’t exist for some people.  It just doesn’t for about 85% of people, with divorce rates hitting an all-time high it’s hard to imagine that kind of love being real.

Of course it was definitely true for Lestat and Fiona because for the better part of their thirty year marriage, I was with him for twenty of those (imagine that?).  He had a mistress for twenty years and yes his idiot wife had no clue and like I mentioned before it was probably that she didn’t care enough about him to sense that something was going on behind her back.  Or, she really is that stupid I mean I saw and heard it for myself so we’ll go with that.  But he refused to leave even after both of his kids left high school and went off to college.  Our arguments about this became increasingly cruel and the emotional stabs became deeper and deeper.  He said to me one day during a fight we were having about this “So what?  When we come back from dropping my daughter off you want me to turn around and tell my wife, oh by the way I’m divorcing you and I’m moving out?”

I looked at him and said “uh yeah pretty much!  I mean you’ve made me wait this long, why I am I the only one paying the price for this?  Make her suffer some why not?”  Well that fight ended with me walking out and leaving yet again.  I also mentioned that if he remembered he told me that he had moved back to “raise” their kids together, not work on their broken marriage because that is why they had separated in the first place.  I guess that idea dissipated during the course of the getting back for the sake of the kids and turned into working on their marriage.  Somewhere during all of this I was the one that got lost in the shuffle of lives and emotions and became his dirty little secret.  Which I didn’t like but I endured because I was convinced that I was in love with him (yes still….).

The Vampire’s Weakness, JEALOUSY 

At the tail end of my twenty year affair with Lestat I had evolved into someone he hardly recognized, his words not mine.  Because he actually wanted me to stay exactly like who I was when we first met.  First of all, I was twenty-nine years old and naïve and I listened to everything he said, EVERYTHING.   His manipulation was a lot stronger when I was younger but as I grew older, wiser and more educated his emotional grip became weaker and weaker.  The ideas he once dictated as law were now met with rebuttals and inquiries about why he believed these ideas to be true.  But that was evident by the “Don’t buy a Car without the Person you’re buying it for” input conversation.

We rarely saw eye to eye on anything anymore, because we had agreed on everything for the most part prior to this stage in our relationship.  When we first met I was enamored by his very presence.  I saw him, well like a devastatingly handsome vampire, black cape and all, with his killer dimples and vampiric smile, rough hands and his worldly knowledge.  That image began to fade as I got older and he got older as well and more tiresome in his ideas and philosophies.  I knew that my evolution was not only eminent but it had happened when I or he wasn’t looking.  I had gone from a girl in her late twenties to an educated woman with knowledge and experience and able to think for myself in every aspect of my life.  I learned lessons and at first most of the time failing, falling, skinning my knees then getting back up again and making it to the end of the line of each struggle.  He, on the other hand had stayed exactly where he was when we first met.  He was no longer thirty-six, pulling off wearing tight Wranglers, button-downs and cowboy boots with his beautifully wavy muddy brown hair.  Now he was fifty-four, still wearing Wranglers only now his man muffin-top hung over the top of his pants with his short-sleeve button downs and the same old cowboy boots.  Oh and somehow, somewhere he lost his great ass and charming grip over me.

In his case personal evolution was being fought back by this vampire who refused to change and/or adapt with the world around him and still dressed like he did in high school.  Any attempt to try and update his ideas, thinking and fashion sense were stifled by his refusal as well as his mantra “this is who I am and if you don’t like it, too bad.”  He remained stuck in 1999 which was when we first met, and although the world was vastly different, his vampiric nature remained the same.  He had begun going through his midlife crisis when he was forty-eight and bought himself a brand new Black Chevy Corvette, this thing was beautiful and it drove like a dream.  High gloss black paint, red and black leather interior with heated seats and Bluetooth capabilities.  I mean if a vampire was going to have a car this was it.  When he brought it by my house I was in awe of this wonderful piece of American made muscle (did I mention that this car cost about half of what he could have given me for a house?  Or that his monthly payment was about as much as a mortgage payment?)

A couple of weeks later I was driving to work and passed a white Corvette about the same make and model as Lestat’s, and inside was a middle aged man with slicked back salt and pepper hair balding on top and a pony tail down the back, Ray Ban sunglasses and he turned to me and smiled.  I was not impressed, and that’s when I realized that the only men who drive these cars are the only ones that can afford them, middle aged, mid-life crisis, balding, aging, fat men who believe the car they’re in is going to make them look younger and more attractive to younger women.  My assessment might be off but just to be fair, I saw a charcoal gray Corvette on the road two weeks after and the woman that was driving it was also older, bleach blonde hair wearing sunglasses and the wrinkles in her face and her batwing arms were flapping in the wind (she had a sun roof).  I’ve made my point, one rarely sees a young attractive man or woman in a nice expensive sports car.  And if you do, it probably belongs to their parents.

Lestat became increasingly insecure and would constantly ask me if I still loved him, which at the time I did.  I realized that we were reversing roles and although I hadn’t become as cruel as he was to me, I was becoming indifferent to him, his needs and wants.  This is when he began to tell me he’d slept with different women of all ages during many of the times we were apart.  Why he thought he needed to tell me instead of keeping it to himself became evident as time went on.  At first I believed him and the jealousy I thought I had buried deep down in the depths of indifference would come bubbling up again.  His attempts at trying to make me jealous worked in the beginning that is, but then a wise friend of mine, whom we’ll call Carmen said to me, “Are you serious, you actually think he can go out and pick up a young, beautiful twenty-five year old to go and fuck her? He’s only telling you that because he has to. The only way that is even possible is if he was able to drive his Corvette into the bar and sit there until a younger woman noticed him and even then it would be a gold-digging money hungry younger woman who thinks they can get anything they want out of men like him.  And you know he’s not about to become anyone’s fucking sugar daddy when he can’t even give you money for food or help you with rent. Snap out of it, he’s lying to you so he can make himself feel and look good.”

Carmen rarely had moments of clarity but when she did they were awesome! And she was right, it might have happened but not as often as he said it did and that is when I saw him for the sad, middle aged emotional vampire that he really was.  Nevertheless I allowed him to keep telling me this, don’t ask me why.  I just did but I didn’t feel the overbearing jealousy or anger when he did and that is what I think bothered him the most.  Once when we got back together he began to tell me yet another story about his sexual exploits and I let him finish.  We were at my house one Saturday morning watching a movie and I didn’t say anything or react, then he made the mistake of asking me what I had done during our time apart.  And I turned to him while taking a sip of my coffee and said “Yeah, pretty much the same” and then he looked at me and said “The same?  What do you mean?”  And I knew I had him, I had baited him and he took it and I had him dangling on my emotional deep sea fishing rod.

I said, I met someone too and yes I slept with him (well because we dated for almost three months) and as much as he tried NOT to ask he couldn’t help himself.  He asked me to elaborate (something I didn’t do when he told me about this fictional sexual encounters while we were apart).  I just sat there and calmly told him about this man (actually a Major in the Army, and a doctor no less) that I had met at work and he had asked me out.  Not only did he ask me out he (we’ll call him Kyle) invited me over to his house because he was going to cook me dinner.  He was stunned silent and whether or not he believed me (I suspect he did) didn’t matter.  I had him, and the curiosity he was emanating my way was fucking killing him, I could feel it.  He asked me how I had met him I told him, he was an audiologist at William Beaumont Army Medical Center and he went he gave a lecture at the university where I worked and we began talking and one thing lead to another and he asked me out.

Then Lestat the middle aged vampire asked me more about him so I decided to take the emotional wooden stake and pull a Van Helsing and stick it right through his cold dark heart.  I told him that Kyle was a Major in the Army and he was a physician, he was divorced, had two kids and lived on Sharondale Drive on the mountains off of Stanton on the west side, those are million dollar houses we’re talking about (I thought I’d throw that in there).  He looked down at his cup of coffee as if trying to find a safety net in the dark creamy brew swirling in his cup.  He stayed quiet, then as I had the emotional wooden stake three quarters of the way in he asked me how old he was.  Now before I go on I need to make one thing clear, I have never been attracted to younger men.  I have always been a sucker for older, more refined men. But that doesn’t mean I actually found any, also I have always found myself attracted to white guys as well.  Kyle, he was not only younger than me, he was an accomplished officer in the Army with a prestigious medical career.  So as I sat there watching the movie Casino for the fourteenth hundred time, without looking over at him I said “Kyle? Oh, he’s seven years younger than I am.”  And the emotional wooden stake began to sink through to his bleeding heart.  Stay tuned for part 14….…


LinkedIn Private Mode Stalking

Let’s get serious for a minute here, in social media there should be safeguards for those that use it.  But I prefer to think of LinkedIn as a professional portal to connect to like minded professionals NOT as a different type of “social” media, although it can be “sociable” in a professional manner.  This comes about because I might be getting stalked by Waldo.  Anyone who’s read my blog and the dating misadventures I’ve had know who this person is.  This is only an assumption, but my point being that I have a LinkedIn account and it tells me someone is viewing my profile in “Private Mode.”  What I want to know is why does LinkedIn have a private mode since this isn’t technically a “social” media page?  I get this “One LinkedIn Member viewed your Profile in Private Mode” notification and this is infuriating!  This isn’t Facebook, Instagram or Snapchat, it’s a professional page that should stay professional.

No one should post selfies of themselves at their desk trying on a new lipstick (yes it has happened) or sexy poses that will absolutely make you look completely unprofessional not to mention ridiculous.  Your profile picture should remain professional and so should your content.  I get email notifications that I have appeared in searches which is actually a good thing if I’m being scouted for a potentially higher paying job.  But when I click on it and see that someone has viewed my profile in “private mode” it makes me think to myself, what the HELL does this person have to hide unless it’s someone I detest then, yes you should hide because I will tell you to stop stalking me!

This is why I suspect that it’s Waldo, that boorish (and boring) pain in the ass that has asked a couple of former co-workers that still work at the other university with him, about me.  I deserve better protection from LinkedIn because it’s the account I actually use.  I don’t have a Facebook, Instagram, Twitter or Snapchat account for several reasons, but the biggest reason is being stalked by stupid people that make even stupider (spell check says that’s a word) comments about you, your life or your interests.  The world is negative enough as it is, I don’t need people living their negative lives vicariously through my social media.  LinkedIn is the only “socializing” I do for professional purposes and then I get this notification every week that someone who doesn’t want me to know who they are or why they are viewing my professional profile in private mode.

I believe that LinkedIn should remove this feature from their page, if its work related then you shouldn’t have to hide for any reason.  But I do have to say that I like that they give their users the ability to block another user from being able to view their profile.  Because sometimes you need that type of protection.  But then again that is what is prompting people like Waldo to go into Private Mode on my ass because I’ve blocked him and several others from my connections to keep them out of my work life.   If Waldo knew how I really felt about him he’d break down and cry in the fetal position in his basement office.  I think he’d be in shock to find exactly how much I can’t stand him, like run you over in the parking lot type of hate.  I think this would go very, very bad for him, more so than it would for me I’m just sayin’.  This is the Huntress915 over and out!


Holiday Flavors that Suck…..

I just read an article about the things wrong with the holidays, and to be honest it was pretty insightful.  Which brings me to what is probably THE most annoying holiday thing ever.  Pumpkin Spice.  I mean WTF is it with Pumpkin spiced everything?  I don’t understand this fascination with pumpkin flavored, scented or colored anything.  As I sat at a stop light on my way to work this morning and thought to myself, what next what else could pumpkin spice permiate to ruin the holidays?  Then I looked up and saw it, Martin Tire on the corner of Lee Trevino and Rojas is offering a pumpkin spiced oil change……only in El Paso (okay it was kinda funny).  I couldn’t take a picture because as I reached for my phone the light turned green.  Now I realize this was done in jest, because even though I don’t like pumpkin spice I do appreciate a great sense of humor.

But really what is so special about pumpkin spice flavoring that we are practically creating an entire holiday season around it.  Never mind the pesky little thing about Christmas and Jesus (yes that was sarcasm) I mean did one of the three wise men being the baby Jesus a pumpkin spice latte or was it pumpkin spice instead of frankincense that was given? I for one HATE pumpkin spiced anything, I don’t even eat pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving and along with cilantro wouldn’t care to taste it again as long as I live.  But in defense of pumpkin itself, I love the different types of pumpkins that offer us so much. Like butternut, acorn, winter and my favorite spaghetti squash, those I can deal with even love.

But this entire Pumpkin Spice crap, we have so many other flavors to celebrate the holiday season without getting all batshit crazy about Pumpkin Spice.  I for one nominate PEPPERMINT MOCHA EVERYTHING!  I would rather drink a peppermint mocha latte than anything pumpkin spiced.  I’m sure pumpkin really isn’t spiced and if it were maybe it would be better if marketing departments everywhere could be convinced to sell chocolate, rum and sugar cookie flavors, now that maybe I’d try.   Now if I could only get those guys at Martin Tire to offer a Peppermint Mocha oil change……This is the Huntress915 over and out.


Part 12………Lessons Learned from the Karate Kid and Mr. Miyagi.

“The biggest coward of a man is to awaken the love of a woman without the intention of loving her” – Bob Marley

During the twenty years of my relationship with Lestat, I felt as though I was sleepwalking through that period of my life, not realizing that twenty years does go by faster than anyone believes.  But the somnambulism crisis I found myself in seemed to also keep Sharlene from being able to communicate with me, but she eventually found a way and I began to wake up to realize that I needed to find an emotional wooden stake to try to scare Lestat the vampire or kill him off all together.  I had gone through many transformations during my time with him, some bad but most good because of the fact that I had graduated from college with my bachelor’s degree, moved to higher paying job at a different university and had begun my Master’s program.  This is when I realized that good things actually happen to me when he’s absent from my life, and it only took me eighteen years to figure it out!  Yes that was sarcasm and yes I am sarcastic in case no one noticed.

But as I recall many of the emotional distresses I had gone through because of him I began to write down to sort of gauge the ups and downs of my life.  If it was a scatter plot graph it would look like a bloody gangster movie scene, dots or in his case splatters of blood throughout my life but the calm, quiet and productive times were even and steady.  During this time I began to listen to Sharlene and told my heart to shut the fuck up for once because we were going to listen to my brain and let her present her life plan to us (imagine my heart duck taped and immobile from any communication whatsoever).  One day while I was alone at home I began to go through my Netfix and found the movie The Bridges of Madison County, I had seen this movie years before but had forgotten most of the plot. So I hunkered down for a rainy Saturday afternoon with my snacks and a movie.

I watched in amazement at the plot and how the characters relationship developed and how beautiful Meryl Streep and handsome Clint Eastwood came off even playing characters in middle age.  Then the fucking waterworks began, I couldn’t stop crying because, one I had realized that I am NOW MIDDLE AGE!  And two, that Clint Eastwood’s character’s name was Robert in the movie (Lestat’s real name) and that I had no chance of survival while in the grasp of the emotional vampire I was convinced I was still in love with.  Actually, he had turned into the Vampire character in the movie Van Helsing played by Richard Roxburgh.  A handsome mysterious man but when he turned into a vampire he became hideously cruel and vengeful, and that is how I saw Lestat; evolving especially because by this time both his kids had graduated high school and wouldn’t you know it?  He was still living at home with Fiona, remember the woman he said he didn’t love but moved back home with to raise their kids together?

During our lifetime together I had had many theories about what I thought love to be.  I thought that it was eternal and that true love lasts forever, breaking the bonds of death and time.  Then I came to see it as voracious, taking and destroying everything in its path like a hurricane or wildfire.  I also once held that true love will surpass even human existence and other lifetimes, once hearing a song from a campy 1970’s movie called The Phantom of the Paradise, which was really corny but the soundtrack is fucking awesome.  Paul Williams wrote and performed most of the songs but one song in particular called Old Souls which was sung by an actress named Jessica Harper, this song hit that one emotional level that made me believe that true love surpasses this and other lifetimes.

One line in the song says “Our paths have crossed and parted this love affair was started long, long ago.  This love survives the ages in its story lives are pages” now tell me that isn’t good shit?  Because it is, and I believed this was what I had with Lestat the vampire and I wanted so much to believe it was true but of course it is total bullshit.  Love like this may exist but it didn’t for me, not with Lestat because that motherfucker had married his soul mate and was living the life he chose with his 2.5 kids the ranch style house and his emotionally warped, misguided and simple-minded wife.  Meanwhile I was standing on the outside looking in at what I thought I wanted and had somehow convinced myself I only wanted it with him.

This Prince Charming idea was also perpetuated in other ways, not just by what our parents tell us, it is literally every fuckin where!  In movies, particularly romantic movies you see the guy meets girl, guy falls in love with girl, girl loves guy, they get married (and here’s the mythic bullshit) they live happily ever after.  Well ever after isn’t always happy or ever after for that matter if it were then divorce wouldn’t existed.  But again to those who will always find something to say about this situation regarding how a cheater will always be a cheater well, that’s true he will, I will not dispute that.  Case in point, some of the times he and I were apart he also went out and dated (you heard that right, being married AND having an ex-girlfriend he still dated, fucking asshole motherfucker) and he didn’t just date.  No, he hunted close to home, he went out and had affairs with his wife’s friends and co-workers!

Even stooping so low as to fuck around with her best friend, a stupid woman who believes in aliens, conspiracy theories and that immunizations cause all kinds of childhood diseases and autism.  Way to go there Bob, you picked a winner with that one.  And still I took him back, but to be fair I didn’t find out he’d been sleeping with his wives friends until after we got back together.  No it doesn’t make it right but if you haven’t been listening, I WAS IN LOVE AND WASN’T THINKING STRAIGHT!!!  So during one of our heated arguments about him having to go home early because she was “bitching about him working all the time” the argument went in another direction the fact that he had fucked around with four of her “friends.”  Let’s get one thing straight here, she must have rotten friends because if they were charmed by him (remember I had, but by this point I had been in a relationship with him going on twenty years so I’m exempt from this) and didn’t think twice about having sex with him and it not bother them that this was their friends husband, she should have shot those friends. Why am I exempt?  Because I wasn’t friends with the bitch nor did I know her and didn’t want to.  I didn’t have friends that stupid.

Those aren’t friends, real, true friends are like the ones I have.  They would have told me that he was skulking around trying to get them into bed.  How do I know this?  Because it happened and both of the friends he tried to “seduce” told me about it.  I was dating Waldo at the time so I didn’t care too much but they did tell me.  BOTH of them did, hey I never claimed that I had a lot of friends but the very small circle I do have, are not only great friends but they have my back, just like I have theirs!  April and my other friend whom we’ll call Victoria both called to tell me that he was trying very hard to get laid and Victoria had run into him at his favorite bar.  She said he plied her and the friends she was with that night with drinks and food, then when she said she was leaving he followed her out to her car and tried to kiss her.  She told him that she was my friend and that it didn’t matter that I was with someone else, she wasn’t going to lose my friendship over a one night stand and that she knew he was married and he should go home to his wife, but not before she slapped him.

Victoria then called me to tell me what he had tried to do, and I told her that I appreciated her friendship and even if I wasn’t dating him she did the right thing.  April did the same, she told me he went to the bar where she worked and after buying her drinks (because apparently a bartender can drink on the job, huh, I wish my job was like that) and when she took her break made his move on her, and she not only told him to fuck off but she slapped him too.  Way to go April! So then she called me that night to tell me what had happened and I told her the same thing I told Victoria, and I went to sleep assured that my friends were true and devoted.  But that brings me back to my point about Fiona’s friends and how really lousy they are at being her “friends.”  Pan back to our argument (you know pan, like in the movies?) I told him he was the lowest of the low if he thought it was okay to fuck around with his stupid wife’s friends.

I reminded him that my friends didn’t allow it and then I repeated a line from another of my favorite movies, Moonstruck, where Olympia Dukakis tells John Mahoney while their eating dinner at Il Grand Ticino together, she say’s “don’t shit where you eat.”  Which makes TOTAL sense, and a mantra that I’ve stuck to since the realization of what that line meant.  Lestat looked at me and it seemed that he didn’t quite understand what I meant, so I had to explain it to him.  Telling him that fucking around with his wife’s friends was a disaster waiting to happened because in a moment of weakness or guilt they could just tell her what he did.  Not that it would make any difference because after twenty years of her husband having an affair and she still hadn’t found out, I mean how smart can this broad be, really?

But it was the principle of the thing, if you’re going to fuck around do it with women that don’t hang around or work with your wife.  Even thieves have some sort of code of ethics right?  If they didn’t then the line honor among thieves wouldn’t exist, which Wikipedia explains as even criminals can possess some sort of form of honor, justice or moral code (Wikipedia, 2018).  So why can’t an adulterer adhere to the same concept, don’t fuck your wife’s friends or it’s going to come back and bite you in the ass!  By this point in my life I began to wake up from the fog that was the Relational Stockholm syndrome, because I had learned to do things on my own I became self-sufficient and independent.  All those years of wishing, wanting and waiting for Lestat to jump into action to help me or hell even compensate me for everything I’d done and gone through for him (which was a lot, and not just boyfriend/girlfriend type shit either) being his part time secretary, his confidant, his best friend, his advisor, his psychologist and even a pseudo wife without all the perks (for me that is).  It was clear that he had Miyagied me and he didn’t even realize that he was doing it.  For the record neither did I, but you get the picture.  MIYAGIED, you know from the movie the Karate Kid (I told you I watched a lot of movies) when Mr. Miyagi tells Daniel that he has to paint the fence, clean the yard, wax on, wax off his old truck…..ring a bell?

The wax-on, wax-off in this case was all those financial lessons that Lesat thought I needed to learn, how to do things on my own like replace the mini-blinds in my rental home, to be able to patch a hole in the wall and budget my money so I didn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck and have my utilities turned off.  The motherfucker had Miyagied me and I began to realize that maybe what I had felt the last five years of this relationship with Lestat the Emotional Sucking Vampire wasn’t love, but instead I was used to his presence and both our lives went on in this very dysfunctional manner.  For twenty years we went through so much with each other, parent’s dying (his not mine) children growing up, accomplishments, setbacks, health issues, and ultimately growing together and growing apart.  And even though, still no real commitment from him what so ever.

The fucker owned (owns) a construction company, I think after everything he put me through the very least (I mean very, very least) he could have done was bought me or build me a house?  Yes, I realize that sounds very selfish and self-serving, but after twenty years of trying to break away from him, and him coming back and leaving again.  I think that all the emotional anguish and indecision, with the resources he had, it would have been pocket change for him.  I am not a gold digger, I am not self-serving (if that were the case I would have found someone else that would provide me with material things a long time ago) I was not with him for his money or status or any other reason than for the pure (okay maybe not pure) love I felt for this very selfish and narcissistic man.  I fell in love with the wrong guy, he was extremely good looking (meh, he lost his charm and looks when he decided to let himself go, yes I know that sounds chauvinistic but if men can think this way, why can’t women? Just sayin’) smart, successful and very business savvy.  I fell in love with him because he was everything every man I had met previously was not.  Of course that changed when he decided to go back to the wife he had sworn to me he would divorce and he became a coward because of his indecisive nature and sheer bullshit personality.   But on my end, my education and self-awareness was beginning to take hold thanks to the Karate Kid and the fact that I was beginning to tire of Lestat the middle-aged emotional vampire and the “Same Old Song and Dance” (Aerosmith).  There was also this nagging feeling that I had about him, but I really couldn’t put my finger on it per-say.  But I finally figured out I was outgrowing him, his ideas, opinions and especially his sense of sexual adventurism.  Stay tuned for part 13…..


Part 11…….The Vampire Returnith……AGAIN

“Be careful what you do to a good woman, because you will have to deal with the bitch you create” – Unknown

Remember when Lestat said if I took him back he was going to change?  Yeah, that never happened, but then again looking back now I should have known it wouldn’t because he got what he wanted, he got me back and got to stay married.  So why should he live up to what he had said?  The thing is I never made him, he also constantly told me that he never promised me anything, and he sure as hell lived up to that, the not promising me anything I mean.  What did happen was that I kept evolving into a more headstrong independent woman, who was beginning to need him or should I say want him less and less.  But I wasn’t ready to leave him just yet, no I had to put myself through more heartache and vampirically emotional bloodletting by Lestat the married vampire.  He kept draining my emotions and his strength grew with every puncture of my self-esteem and self-confidence, it’s what a vampire does, they drain you little by little trying to turn you, or kill you.  I mean if you let them kill you that is.

There is no justifying behavior like Lestat’s because he had gotten his way for as long as I can remember, and before I met him that’s for sure.  When we think of being in love we think it’s like in the movies.  We find “the” one and then we begin a relationship, we “fall” in love and then one of two things happens, they fall in love as well or we fall in love alone.  When you fall in love alone it’s the most devastating type of love.  Because the one’s we love don’t and will not love us back no matter how hard we try or what we do to try and convince them of how much we love them.  We continue to think love is what Hollywood wants us to think is it, or how a song can express just how much “love” is good and eventually we all experience this.  But love isn’t like the movies or what we hear on the radio.  Everyone and I do mean EVERYONE wants to be that movie or song to the person there in love with.  Just like I wanted to be Meg Ryan in “You’ve Got Mail” to Lestat’s Tom Hanks or to be “the” song to him.  Like a beautiful song by the group Shenandoah called “I Want to Be Loved Like That.”  In my mind it is (maybe was) the epitome of what I wanted Lestat to feel about me, because I sure as hell felt this about him.  The first two verses of that song go….

Natalie Wood gave her heart to James Dean

High school rebel and a beauty queen

Standing together in an angry world

One boy fighting for one girl

I want to be loved like that

I want to be loved like that

A promise, you can’t take back

If you’re gonna love me

I want to be loved like that

Of course I’ve never been loved like that, and even though as I mentioned before I did love Lestat like that, he always told me he didn’t know how to express himself to me the way I did to him.  But of course I know that’s a lie because he can, he just won’t and maybe it’s because he has never loved me “like that.”   Which would make me question why he’d always, and I do mean ALWAYS come looking for me after every single breakup.  I always walked away and he always came back.  The longest relationship rehab went on for almost a year, can you believe that?  I was away from him for ten entire months, I ignored him passing by on my way to work.  I had blocked him from my phone but because he had cell phones for his construction company he’d use those at times to send me texts.  I walked away all the time and he always came back.  I have yet to figure this out if he said he loved me but yet tortured me to no end, and I’d leave and he would almost always beg to let him back into my life.  I think that everyone deserves to be loved that way.  A love so strong that it can push both of you through anything because love is what kept you from going insane and gave you the strength to hold on, not just for yourself but for each other.  The closest I’ve come to that kind of feeling (besides Lestat) was when a new bakery opened up near my house. It’s called Nothing Bundt Cakes and I fell in love with their white chocolate raspberry Bundt, true story.

As a result of the day to day routine in my dysfunctional relationship with Lestat I grew to get use to certain things about him.  For instance when he had to be home by a certain time, or he couldn’t see me on certain days, and for a while I tolerated this routine.  Okay I wasn’t okay with it, it was frustrating and annoying as hell but again, I believed that Lestat the Vampire would turn into Prince Charming, that guy I had been waiting for all my life.  I didn’t voice my discontent, I mean I didn’t voice it very often.  Alright that’s a lie I told him toward the tail end of our relationship that it was pissing me off that he wasn’t making up his mind.  I know that you’re wondering how the hell he was still married, after I had mentioned that when I met him he was separated and getting a divorce, right?

So let me elaborate, when I met him he was separated and in the process of getting a divorce and if you remember his wife was pregnant with their second child, a child they planned on having so their son wouldn’t grow up alone.  This bothers me, I mean I know that it was a conscience decision to have another child, and that it was done so that their son would have a sibling.  But think about it, when this girl grows up and she may or may not know that she was planned which is okay, I suppose.  But I know it would bother me to know that I was planned for the sole reason of making sure that my brother had a sibling and wouldn’t grow up an only child.  It’s disturbing to know that your existence was planned as a companion for your brother.  It’s like she’ll be a FrankenSister or something like that (not to mention she looks like Gossamer from the Looney Tunes Cartoons).   Okay it’s probably just me but I suppose it made sense to them at the time.

Their intention (or at least that’s what he) was for them to agree to have another child for the sake of their son and divorce because they were unhappy together.  Again this is intel I got from him, you know Lestat the Vampire.  But then it’s not like he’s the best source of reliable information, I learned that the hard way.  So when he explained his situation I accepted it because he did tell me (many times) that he wasn’t happy and that they had mutually agreed to do what they had planned.  So what happened along the way you ask?  Life took a huge steaming dump on my plans that’s what happened.  After almost a year and a half of dating Lestat (that’s how long we were together prior to his backtracking) he asked me out to lunch.  During our lunch date he was unusually quiet which is not like him at all, then he took my hand and said to me “I need to tell you something, and I don’t know how I’m going to do it” I thought to myself oh my God he has a terminal illness.  Yes that’s what I thought because he was so serious and straight-faced I had no idea of the emotional bomb he was about to drop on me.

I put my hand on his and looked at him asking if he was alright, and tightened my grip on his and then he looked up at me and said “I’m moving back home, I’m going back to live with Fiona because I want to be a part of my kids’ lives and that’s the only way it’s going to happen.”  I couldn’t move, I was frozen in place with my hand on his, I could see that his face was beginning to flinch and my grip was getting tighter and tighter and I realized I was digging my nails into the top of his hand, he finally pulled away and I had drawn a small amount of blood from one of my nails that punctured the top of his wrist.  Funny, I drew blood from the vampire and vampires don’t like that, they hate it when you turn the tables on them.  He looked at me and asked “are you alright?” I stared out of the window where we were sitting, I suddenly realized that the noise around me had stopped.  I had gone deaf, I heard nothing but the ringing in my ears and the pounding of heart, or should I say the breaking of my heart.  I heard myself swallow hard and turned to look at him.

He asked again if I was alright and I turned to him and yelled “does it fucking look like I’m alright?  You asshole, how could you do this to me, you said you were getting a divorce and I never once question why it was taking so fucking long.  And now you tell me you’re going back to your wife, and you do it in public no less you asshole chicken-shit!!!!!”  He asked me to keep my voice down and I said would not, I told him that if he wanted to keep me from making a scene he should have told me in private.  But I think it was his best defense because I am, after all Latina and my first reaction was to take a hard right to his face and then go out into the parking lot and take a baseball bat to the windshield of his truck and an ice pick to each of his tires.  That’s what I should have done (I might have as I did have a baseball bat in the trunk of my car…..and an ice pick, don’t judge) but what I did was get up and walk out of the restaurant.  I walked towards the middle of the parking lot realizing that I didn’t have my car with me because Lestat had picked me up at work.  I felt what seemed to be rivers of tears falling from my eyes and then I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I screamed as loud as I could, it was the only release that I had at that moment, my screams and crying were uncontrollable.  I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned around and it was Lestat.  He told me to get into his truck and I screamed at him that I’d rather walk the five miles back to my office rather than get into a vehicle with a fucking liar.  I began to walk down the street, not really knowing where I was going with tears streaming down my face as I dug through my purse for my cell phone.  I was thinking of who I could call for a ride, I called my friend April the bartender.  She didn’t hesitate the minute she heard me crying she only asked what part of town I was at and she gave me a destination near to where I was to wait for her.  I waited for what seemed hours but in reality it was only fifteen minutes before she got to where I was at.

As I got into her car she asked me to tell her what happened, and I proceeded to tell her what had transpired during lunch.  “That asshole! That fucking asshole!” she screamed and drove straight to Robert’s office running every red light she came across.  By the time we got there his truck was already in the parking lot.  She looked at me and then popped the trunk on her 1996 Honda Civic.  She put it in park and got out, I heard her screaming his name as she was riffling through her trunk.  I had no idea what she was doing back there and then low and behold I saw her with the baseball bat in her hands and instead of stopping her, I let her go on her rampage of bestfriendedness (spell check says that’s not a word, I think it should be so therefore it is, BESTFRIENDEDNESS!!) and sat back in her car and let her go after his truck.  She began with his side mirror and then his doors, then the windshield and by this time his brother came running out and then yelled at her. All I heard was mumble, mumble “your crazy bitch!” did I mention April is a white chick?

I couldn’t really hear what they were saying to each other but then Lestat came out of his office and since he knew who she was he knew what she was doing and why.  Oddly enough he didn’t act angry or called the cops, which I found weird because, did he anticipate this might happen?  She said something to him (I could see her mouth every obscenity his way as she held onto that wooden baseball bat in her Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and Nike running shoes, her hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head).  He seemed to ignore her as he walked over to me and opened the passenger side door to her car and knelt down and said “I’m sorry, I love you really I do” and I turned around to him and didn’t say anything. I just sat there as if every part of my being was being pummeled by every single emotion at the news he had given me over lunch.  Everything from the past hour was a blur, nothing made sense and my head was swimming in a cloud of confusion and heartbreak.  That night I didn’t sleep, probably because he kept calling me and I didn’t answer.  I had resolved that night to not see him ever again because he had decided to go back to his wife that he hadn’t yet divorced.  But during this year and a half of waiting for him to “finalize” his divorce I didn’t push or ask too much about it because I didn’t want to seem, well pushy or needy or a bitch.

Yes I know that you think it was stupid of me and it was but there was an end game here, a return on investment if you will, well when I believed he was actually going to get a divorce.  After his imaginary divorce was complete he and I would begin to build our lives together and that is was I was looking forward to, I had pictured the end of the rainbow with him, for him to be my Prince Charming.   But that night all of that went up in smoke, the ashes from what I thought was left of my relationship with him were smoldering underneath me, slowly burning there, silent but painfully.  After what seemed like hours of darkness both physical and emotional I had to get up and go to work, with my face swollen from crying and no sleep I looked like hammered shit.  But I soldiered on and got ready and headed out to work resolving to pick up the pieces of the shattered life I had known for over almost two years.  That day I kept getting call after call from him on my cell and at work, and I not once answered (I was very proud at my resolve).

I stayed strong for about three weeks after, even though the sting of rejection was still fresh like an open gaping wound that wouldn’t heal, but I had decided to dull the pain with work, coffee and nicotine.  This was 2002, I worked for a fire alarm company and I was alone most of the day when the all the installation technicians would leave for their scheduled calls.  Which was a much needed reprieve from putting on a smile and going through the motions of my day for the sake of my job.  But the minute they left I fell apart, I didn’t cry out loud by I sure as hell had a hard time keeping the tears in, as I sat there staring out of my office plate glass window wiping the tears away with tattered tissues that seemed to pile into my trash can like the snow caps of Mt. Everest.  Three weeks eventually passed and each day the hurt got worse but my resolve was getting stronger.  And then it happened, the motherfucker decided to show up at my office, and I was NOT prepared to deal with him or his emotional ambush. He knew that for most of the day I was alone, and just like Lucy Westenra in Bram Stokers Dracula, I was a goner.

He knew what the fuck he was doing since I hadn’t answered his phone calls for three weeks (this was before blocking a number was available on your cell phone) he had no other option but to physically and emotionally ambush me at work.  I saw his truck drive up and thought to myself this motherfucker has some balls.  But my heart was telling me, oh my God he’s here and he wants to talk to you because he loves you!  I wish I could’ve shut my heart up because the rest of me always winds up listing to it, well, all except my brain because that’s the one that is logical and says to me “don’t listen to this lying asshole, no matter how charming he seems or what he tells you he’s just trying to get his way.”  And she was right, my brain I mean, that motherfucker came over only to tell me he missed me and that he still loved me in spite of the fact that he had moved back in with Fiona.

I should have stayed strong but the truth is my heart convinced the rest of me, including my logical brain whom I’ll call Sharleen (why not? She’s my brain after all) to give into him….again.  It was hard to resist his allure and bullshit covered in charm and Halston cologne.  The day he showed up at my office I was at probably what I would consider one of the weakest days of my life, and it showed.  Because my office had an extremely large plate glass window and the parking for our company was literally right in front, anyone parked in front could see inward, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.  He saw me in this state, which was, let’s face it obvious.  In true vampiric fashion he sat in white Ford F-150 flossing and sharpened his fangs, sprayed on his Halston Z-14, popped the collar on his black cape and walked towards the entrance to my office in that slow motion walk that always happens in the movies.  The wind slowly blowing through his cape revealing the red satin underside, gently whisking that dark muddy river hair of his, strutting his 6’1 frame towards the door, his erotic dimpled smile showing his fangs shinning in the sunlight as he was about to take another bite out of my heart, emotions and life.

Okay it sounds stupid and yes I watch a lot of movies but this is how I saw it happen, the entire vampire, slow motion walking, cape flapping, smiling shiny fang thing! (Just a quick note, emotional vampires can and are able to be out in the sunlight, it’s in the darkness that they have issues with).  In reality he was wearing Wrangler jeans, his cowboy boots and a dark maroon colored button down long sleeve shirt.  He looked like John Travolta in Urban Cowboy, when he first shaved his beard and we catch the first glimpse of that handsome face of his in his black Stetson.

I sat there wearing my jeans, boots and company polo shirt, hair tied on top of my head in a messy pony tail with little to no make-up.  My defenses were down and I couldn’t go into battle knowing I was about to be taken down by Lestat the Emotional Vampire hunting for sport, because I had no strength to fight him off whatsoever. And true to form, he walked into my office and with every step he took towards me I took another back.  His facial expression changed as if he noticed that I didn’t trust him anymore, which of course was right.  He asked me if there was any one else in the office and I stood there in silence and he said to me “It’s me, its okay, are you alone?”  As he was talking my eyes slowly glanced over through the big plate glass window to see the damage that my friend April had done to his new truck.  I looked at the dents on the doors and he had replaced the windshield but the side mirror on the passenger side was being held together with black electrical tape.  I could hear him talking to me but it sounded muffled because it felt as if I had gone deaf once again.

Then all at once I snapped out of it and managed to say “what the fuck do you want?”  He stepped back and the lingering scent of his cologne wafted through my office and my heart.  He said he was there because I gave him no choice since I hadn’t answered any of his phone calls.  I mentioned that was for a reason, I mean what the fuck did he think I was doing?  Really, ugh!

Then I told him that I didn’t want to talk that I wanted him to leave (this was Sharleen talking and she was awesome!) That is until he said those three magic words…….I…..love…. you and then everything went to shit.  My heart took over and managed to muffle Sharleen and I felt as if I couldn’t breathe so I sat down in my chair.  He walked over to me and took both my hands to bring me up towards him and then he hugged me and whispered in my ear “I’m so sorry, I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you.  I can’t live without you, please don’t send me away.”

As he held me in his arms, my eyes closed tight listening to these words coming out of his vampiric mouth, smelling his cologne and feeling the tightening squeeze of his arms wrapped around me (like a motherfucking anaconda right before it eats its prey).  I pushed him away and asked him how the fuck could he ask me NOT to send him away if he was still married AND had moved back in with his ugly wife Fiona?  He said he did it for his kids, and that he is living there with her and the kids but he loved me.  Of course in retrospect this was complete and utter bullshit because that’s what vampires do, they charm you, they hypnotize you and then BAM they suck your will to live or make rational decisions.

Needless to say I took him back even though he had moved back in with his ugly, fat horse faced wife and I told myself that I could deal with this.  I told myself that I could be a mistress to the man I believed I loved in order to be with him and that’s when he made that statement “when they are grown and out of high school we can be together.” Inside I was like, what the fuck? High school? Their daughter is all of a year old (at the time) and I have to wait until she graduates from high school, this assholes crazy! Of course this was an empty promise because after all he had spent the rest of our relationship telling me he hadn’t promised me anything OR that he wouldn’t fight for me.

Now, once again I need to stress that those who will feel the need to judge me based on the decisions I made to stay with him and be his mistress, this did NOT start out this way.  I sort of fell into it, like a ginormous puddle of quicksand I didn’t see while running through a vine ridden jungle of emotions.  And that Charming dude and his white horse whom we’ll call Carlos (I had to throw in one Hispanic name right?) could have shown up to save me but they didn’t.  But the pious and self-righteous will always judge, so to those I say, judge away I’m sure someone’s out there judging you even if you don’t think it’s happening to you, it is, you’re just blind to it or actually believe you haven’t done ANYTHING wrong in your entire life.  Go ahead, keep thinking that but me, Sharleen and Carlos the white horse know better.  In any case this was why and how I found myself dating a married man for twenty years of my life.  Needless to say as I got older and wiser I realized that the window of opportunity was getting smaller for me to find a “real” boyfriend to date and have a potentially healthy relationship.  Stay tuned for part 12…..


Part 10……..Sometimes Your Knight in Shining Armor is an idiot in Tin Foil – Unknown

At times some of us are so convinced that the man or woman we’re in love with is “the” one.  Even when they treat us bad or take us for granted and put us through hell and we have to walk our way back through the fire in order to realize, what is it that we see in them?  Love should not hurt, love should not make us second guess ourselves. Ideally love should be two people putting in the same amount of effort, the same give and take not one giving more than the other.  In 2007 I was working at UTEP in the department of Engineering and I wasn’t making nearly enough to cover having to support three boys, while going to school full time as well.  In spite of this I had finally moved out of my parents’ house and rented a home on the far eastside of El Paso.  At the time I was juggling paying bills, a car payment and rent.  I found myself deciding which bill could wait and which one needed to be paid right away.

Then one Thursday afternoon, as luck would have it, my electricity got turned off because I hadn’t paid the bill (that was overdue).  I barely had enough money to make ends meet, cover rent, utilities, food, clothes for two boys (my oldest had graduated and was working and living on his own) and my car and insurance payment.  That day he came over and instead of listening to me about what had happened with the electricity, he got angry at me for being so financially irresponsible.  He asked me how much my bill was so they could turn it back on, I told him it was $72 dollars and then he said had to go home and he left.

Yes the motherfucker left and me and my thirteen year old son slept on an inflatable mattress outside that night under the back porch because it was too hot inside, after all it WAS THE MIDDLE OF AUGUST IN HELL PASO, that night it hit a cool 97 degrees!  This was one of those times that I thought it was obvious that I might need a little help, you know because I was his girlfriend of fifteen years (the one that didn’t demand any financial support whatsoever).  I didn’t go to work that Friday because someone had to be there when the utility company went to go turn on the power.  The first thing that morning he called to ask how I was doing (which was a stupid thing to ask, really).  I said I was fine, and he told me he was on his way to give me the money to pay my electric bill.  That’s when I told him I didn’t need it because I had borrowed the money from one of my friends the night before (who offered to put me in a hotel for the night but I politely declined) but the electric company couldn’t come by until the next day to turn the power back on.  That’s when Lestat mentioned that he couldn’t sleep the night before because he was “worried about me” being at my house without any electricity.  I thought to myself, exactly how much did you really worry about me that night?  How much could you worry about me while in your 2200 square foot, refrigerated home, comfortably asleep?

The motherfucker could have given me the $72 dollars that day, it wasn’t going to break him, but yet he left me and went home and supposedly couldn’t sleep that night.  He spent more on eating out every single day in one week but he couldn’t help out his girlfriend who he claimed to love?  And who knows, maybe it was the guilt that didn’t allow him to sleep, the guilt of not being a kind human being to the woman he’d been in a relationship for fifteen years.  Or then again, maybe he was lying because we know now he’s a fucking liar.  It wasn’t until years later that he mentioned that he was trying to teach me a lesson and we proceeded to have a huge fight about that particular day.

Helping me should have been second nature to him because he said he loved me (something he kept saying over the course of fifteen years).  I do know one thing, I would have helped him had he needed it, unconditionally no questions asked, no lessons that needed teaching, no trying to make my point, only helping the man I loved.  But he had to make his point, he felt the overwhelming need to teach me that lesson that he believed I needed to learn at one of the very worsts times in my life.  Then I thought to myself, why the fuck should I be the one needing to learn this particular lesson?  Why in the hell doesn’t he teach these so-called “lessons” to the woman that actually NEEDS them?

I’m talking about his wife of course because after all she’s probably the one woman who can’t handle any kind of fiscal responsibilities whatsoever but since he got her use to him doing everything for her, she doesn’t have to learn these types of moral or financial lessons.  The bitch doesn’t know how much a gallon of gas or milk costs.  She also doesn’t need to calculate the exact amount of money in order to buy groceries or budget each month to pay every utility bill.  I suppose when you’re married to an obsessive-compulsive, passive-aggressive emotional vampire, one doesn’t need to do anything but let the control freak do everything for you.  That’s why he goes out and buys cars and shit without her input, because she can’t think for herself and never will because he does it for her and a stupid woman is okay with that I suppose.

As I had mentioned before we broke up and got back together many, many times.  And once again I had had enough of his issues and indecisive nature, so I left him (yes again).  I began to date someone who, come to think about he mirrored my ex-husband in many ways (what was I thinking?).  This man, whom I’ll call Jeff for the purposes of this story was actually once married to my ex-husbands first cousin.  We use to hang out together and our kids played with each other, I mean after all we were family.  We ran into each other one day at the Walmart and we talked for over an hour in the frozen food section, he told me his wife left him and I told him I was divorced as well, so he asked me out and I said yes.  We began to date and I thought to myself that this guy might be a serious relationship, not that I knew what that was after dealing with Lestat.  And he was still there in the shadows, whispering to me every so often but this time I had a distraction that allowed me to ignore him and he sure as hell didn’t like that.  Emotional vampires need to be the center of attention, especially the center of “your” life for them to keep going.  Jeff and I dated for four months, and since my boys knew him they were okay with it I suppose, they never voiced their discontent with Jeff, not like they did with Waldo, they hated him.

I was happy for a short time (a very short time) that is of course until Jeff’s overbearing attempts at our relationship began to get on my nerves.  Jeff wasn’t from El Paso he was actually from Indiana, born and raised (yes he’s white, I mean if you couldn’t have guessed by his name) and he came to El Paso because he was stationed at Fort Bliss while in the Army.  That’s when he met his future ex-wife, my ex-husbands first cousin (stay with me here) and they got married and had two kids.  Jeff began to display signs of insecurity and neediness and that was something I tried to ignore because I actively would tell myself that I had to forget about Lestat and move on.  I came to realize that Jeff had issues of his own, I mean who doesn’t right? But some issues are stronger than others.  For instance, neediness and clinginess that shit is annoying as fuck.  That’s probably because I began to find my independence and I couldn’t take those horrible traits in anyone, let alone a man I was dating.

I had enough of that shit with Waldo and I HATE being suffocated in those ways, okay I hate being suffocated in every way.  Sure I could have tried to deal with that but when a man wants to follow you like a shadow on the ground (thanks Trisha Yearwood for that line) it can and will get annoying.  He spent every waking hour with me, I mean when he didn’t have to work of course, I would turn around and *bam* there he’d be just looking at me.  One day I got out of the shower because we were going to go to the movies, and *bam* there he was sitting on the toilet waiting for me to get out of the shower, and he wasn’t even at my house when I got in the shower!  This was very unsettling and I made sure he knew it, but did that stop him?  Nope, if I spent the night at his house, I’d wake up and find him just staring at me.  One night I actually got up at 1:43am to find him intently staring at me, I got my overnight bag together and drove home in pure frustration.  But not before the mofo said “Great idea hun, I’ll go with you” to which I had to say “Oh hell no, I need to sleep so you’re staying here and DON’T FOLLOW ME!”  Yes it sounds cruel and uncaring but I was like what the fuck is wrong with this guy?

I also realize that every man is different and I had to learn to accept them for whom they were, NOT compare them to the gauge that was Lestat.  I really did, I use to stand in front of my bathroom mirror and say to myself “He’s a nice guy, he’s a nice guy. It doesn’t matter that he’s here all the time and that his idea of a dinner is frozen deer from meat from last hunting season on the grill. Or that when he calls to wake me up at 5:45am on a Sunday morning and ask if I’d like some coffee when the fucker is already at my front door with a thermos of coffee he brought from home, he’s a good guy, he’s a good guy.”

During this time with Jeff, Lestat began to realize he was losing his emotional and physical grip on me and his attempts at relationship recovery became more and more desperate.  Which I had ignored until one day he called me out of the blue, we began to talk because he said to me that being able to just talk to me was enough for him.  I made the mistake of allowing him backing with just a “talking” type of friendship (big mistake).  That day he asked me what I was doing and I said I hadn’t felt very good that morning and decided to stay home from work.  He said “You’re at home? Really? Do you need anything?  I can take you medicine or something to eat if you’re not feeling well.”  I laughed because I knew he was trying really hard, and I said that I was okay and that I had to go because I was going to go back to sleep.  He said okay and then we hung up, I got up from my couch and as I walked to my bedroom my doorbell rang.  For those of you who guessed, it was him, Lestat the Emotional Vampire.

I went to the door and looked through the peephole and reluctantly opened the door.  He stood there with two cups of coffee from McDonalds (sound familiar?) and I said to him “what are you doing here?  You know you can’t be here and I didn’t invite you.”  I have to say that’s when I noticed that he didn’t particularly look all that well.  He looked disheveled, he had a t-shirt with white paint on it and he looked like hadn’t shaved in days.  He looked at me with what looked like tears welling up in his eyes and he begged me to let him in.  So stupidly I did, and we sat in my living room in silence for the first ten minutes, just drinking our coffee.  I finally asked him what he wanted, and he put his cup of coffee on the end table.  He walked to the chair I was sitting in and knelt beside me, took my hand in his and put it to his chest as he looked at me and said “I need you, I miss you so much please don’t cut me out of your life.  I love you so much and knowing you’re with another man is killing me.  I want you back, I promise I’ll change, please give me a chance, please I’m begging you.  I will never take you for granted again.”

At that very moment, the inner me was jumping up and down for joy, I mean what woman doesn’t want to hear that from any man?  Or for that matter what man doesn’t want to hear that from a woman?  We all do, we all want to know that we’re wanted and loved and that the person we want, wants us in return.  As the inner me rejoiced, the outer me struggled to stay stone faced and emotionless all the while Lestat was bearing his heart to me.  He took my hand and kissed it as tears fell down his cheeks.  He quickly got up and hurried out the back door of my house.  I rushed after him (because I was like what the fuck just happened?) and saw him pacing back and forth frantically looking like he was gasping for air.  He came up to me and said he felt claustrophobic and felt like he couldn’t breathe and took my face in his rough hands and asked me again to take him back.

I hesitated of course because after all I had already had a boyfriend and it wasn’t fair to him to just drop Jeff and go back to Lestat.  I told him I couldn’t, and he knelt down on the back porch concrete and asked me again (a mock wedding proposal?  No just arrogance on his part at what he thought I wanted to see and hear).  And again I told him no, he got up and said he understood but I suspect he didn’t.  After another hour of him being there he left and I still felt sick and went to bed.  That afternoon Jeff showed up with dinner from some hole in the wall restaurant off of Montana somewhere, just as I was falling into a deep sleep.  I was to say the least annoyed, but I didn’t say or show it, so tired, sick and sleepy I sat at the table with my boyfriend from Indiana and ate dinner, listening to him talk and talk. Did I mention Jeff spoke with a faux southern accent which somehow seemed to annoy me under the skin, because the mofo was from Indiana, how the fuck did he wind up talking like Scarlett O’Hara?!?!

I could see this relationship was doomed, it was already on the horizon right before the supernova of disastrous relationships implosions happen.  It was just a matter of when and where.  During my relationship with Jeff I kept in contact with Lestat (yes I know this was bad and probably contributed to the demise of my relationship with Jeff) and we talked and even met a couple of times for lunch.  It was innocent, I mean except all the times he tried to kiss or feel me up.  Which I resisted and that was no small feat because I was still very, very attracted to him.  One day our after work ice cream turned into sex at his office, again it was the strong attraction I felt, stupid yes, very, very stupid.  But none the less I felt bad because I had a boyfriend, but my fading feelings for Jeff changed one day when we went out to look for a bottle of wine for one of my friend’s housewarming party.

That night I had made him dinner, beef bourgeon and it was DELICIOUS if I do say so myself.  Afterwards we went to World Market to go find that bottle of wine, and we, for the most part, were having a good time.  My youngest son was with us and we made our way oohing and aahing through the store and taking our time.  During all of this I could see Jeff becoming antsy, nervous almost as he would walk away from us and then walk back and begin talking to us and picking up snacks and stuff to put in our basket.  While in the wine section I was looking at all of the different brands and trying to pick out a bottle as unique as my friend.  When all of a sudden Jeff walked up to me and said, in his annoying false southern accent, “we need to leave, I have gas” I stepped back looking at him and trying to process this request and that’s when I realized what he was doing when he was walking away from us and back again.  It was because he was going far from us to fart!

Yes, you heard that right, this Indiana wannabe hillbilly was farting in the fucking World Market, and around other people no less!  Then he looked at me and walked towards the doors that go to the back of the store where only employees are allowed and this time I heard it.  I heard the nasty noise coming out of this idiot’s ass.  He walked back towards me all the while I’m standing there with a bottle of Woodbridge Cabernet Sauvignon in my hand watching him come back toward me and wondering what the FUCK am I doing with this guy?!?!?  I tried not to drop the bottle because all I felt was sheer rage and disgust at this man’s actions in public.   As he got closer I finally noticed it, he wasn’t anyone I should be dating.  The last remnants of relationship newness was gone *poof* disappeared in a cloud of his gastronomical antics! As if a veil was lifted from my eyes I noticed he was dressed in tattered khaki cargo shorts that were stained in the front.  A dark green t-shirt that had an old beer logo on it with a torn collar and stained from the dinner that we had had a few hours before and a backwards baseball cap on his balding head.  And to top it all off he was burping out loud.  BURPING OUT LOUD FOR FUCKS SAKE!!!

All the while moving a toothpick through his mouth, back and forth from one side to another, sucking on it like it still had remnants from dinner.  Then one of the workers came out from that back and as he stood there at the swinging doors, where this idiot had farted, probably trying to figure out what the fuck that rank smell was.  I put the wine back on the shelf, left my cart, called to my son and told him we were leaving and proceeded to walk out of the store.  Jeff followed me and kept saying in his annoying southern accent “honey, you not gon’ git the wine for yur frien?”  As I made my way thought the parking lot toward his truck holding my son’s hand and tugging him hard, I turned to say “just take me home, I don’t want to talk to you right now, take me home, NOW!”  He said “K, k what’s got yur panties in a twist?”  I thought I should stay quiet because my son was with me and I tried, believe me I fucking tried.  But he kept talking even after I told him to be quiet because I had a headache and I didn’t feel well.

Did the fucker listen?  No, the motherfucker kept going on and on about why I was “actin’” like that and “he was gonna git the switch on my bottom” and finally at the stop light at George Dieter and Vista Del Sol I yelled out at him to shut the fuck up and that I thought he was a disgusting person.  That his sucking on a fucking toothpick for more than two hours was horribly immature and a dirty habit not to mention farting in public, but he wouldn’t know that since he had no regard for other people in public for him to do it so blatantly.  My son who was only thirteen and began to laugh and it seemed to add to the embarrassment it seemed he felt at my description of his shortcomings. As we drove up to my house he began to get out of his truck and I stopped him to say that I didn’t want him to come in.  I told my son to get out of the truck and go inside while I told Jeff that I wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore.

I didn’t let him answer me and closed the door to his truck, which by the way was covered top to bottom with fucking dog hair which was gross, and walked into my house.  As I turned to close the front door I saw him sitting in his truck staring at me and then my phone rang, it was him!  I was like what the fuck?!?!  I didn’t answer it, just sent it to voicemail and I went to my bedroom and stripped naked and got into the shower as if it was going to cleanse me from the four month experience with Jeff the Indiana hillbilly and his incredible rectal percussion.  He kept calling me after that but I never answered, the following week Lestat was back in my life and on a Sunday morning as we were having coffee together, Jeff came by.  That’s right he came by with a trailer hitched to his truck to pick up the patio set and grill he bought me for Mother’s Day.  Many would say he had the right to do so but in my mind it was a fucking gift and I should have told him to get the fuck out of my yard.  But I didn’t, I let him take my “gift” back all the while Lestat’s Corvette sat in the drive way which I’m sure was like rubbing salt in the wound in Jeff’s heart (okay that’s just an assumption, I don’t know how he felt about me but oh well).  I never talked to him again and I found myself reconciled with Lestat and so resumed our dysfunctional relationship.  Stay tuned for part eleven…..